Vaundsburg: Independence Day (Large Scale)

And the Host of the Gods marched forth for the first time since the uniting of the tribes, long, long ago.

Beasts of war walked the forests north of Vaundsburg alongside warrior and commander alike. Massive Triceratops, covered in glittering scales, feathers, and silk pennants formed the bulwark the siege beasts the Crokodon were set to use, several fitted with great bows or primitive catapults and howdahs carrying several of the smallest Crokodon with bows, atlatls, and javelins. Each was the size of a small building to accommodate the lizard warriors.

The largest individual, a Bond-Beast with the Scarblood elder Dor-rak, bore a large yellow glowing gemstone on its back known as the Sunstone of Totutl, casting rays of the sun’s light from its heart. At the shoulder the creature matched the height of Undergaung’s walls but carried only the Elder and the stone on a stone altar.

The packs of warriors that marched were loosely organized, with the massive Beastspawn carrying their Great Bows and clubs longer than the average man was tall, Scarbloods with their stony hides carrying stone slabs as shields and maces. Godspawn moved in packs with primitive stone and wooden clubs, macuahuitls, and axes, javelins and atlatls on their backs, heavy spiked shields carried by each warrior.

Cavalry riding domesticated beasts of burden were sparse, however most of the commanders rode giant jungle apex predators, beasts straight from the nightmares of civilized society ridden by ancient reptilian warriors directing the hordes of their kin with some form of feral strategy.

A single group of Sunbloods, with their skull helms and gold decorated armor marched in the center, alongside their eldest, Taun-Lok, Priest-King of the Golden City. He rode a smaller triceratops, much like another race might use an elephant. The twin banners of the Queztacoatl flowed behind the Priest-King, his mount decorated almost as ornately as he with colorful feathers and golden tablets.

The Priest-King’s obsidian armor and cloak of feathers matched, having replaced them with raven’s pinions for this battle. His left arm was adorned with gold and silver all the way from the shoulder to the tips of his fingers, covered in the Hand of Totutl, God of the Sky and King of all Creation. Totutl’s right eye blazoned bright in his palm, a subtle glow radiating from his arm.

The army approached the edge of the forests, the sounds of revolt were faint from this distance. Taun-Lok stood in his saddle, the low growl in his chest rising into a feral roar, asserting dominance over the land and the host at the top of his lungs. Every warrior and beast in the host lifted their voices alongside the Priest-King in a deafening, earth shaking roar that resounded and echoed across heaven and earth.

The War on the Dead had begun.

LOCATION: Approaching with Taun-Lok

In the reptilian army's dusty wake came their loose equivalent of camp followers, those who managed whatever strange supply chain and services they might require. One of the large, non-sentient lizards carried Her Royal Highness, Princess Mirielle of Ashdell. Nobody back home would have recognized her. In mirrors, she didn't recognize herself.

Something about the eyes, she'd decided. Sure, her clothes were relics of outlandish travelers who'd stumbled across the lost city and never stumbled out. Sure, for all her scrubbing she kept finding dried blood in her hair and the creases of her skin. Sure, she'd gotten more sun and weather lately than she ever had, even while studying in bright Perona. Sure, she'd picked up scars in the last stand against the orcs at Ethenveld. But the change certainly lived in her eyes.

So she'd stopped looking in mirrors, and she knew that had changed her appearance too.

Clad in faded silks, looking not much like she ever had, she rode the saurian mount reasonably well. It walked with a different rhythm than a horse or a mammoth, but she'd adjusted over the course of the trek to Vaundsburg. Now she could write and sketch steadily as the mount ambled along. With a stick of charcoal, she'd drawn the saurian’s huge flat teeth, the army’s strange forms and weapons and armour, their varied species and subspecies, and the great sunstone. She'd obtained a much smaller one and sketched that as well.

Now she found herself drawing the gigantic city of Untergaung. Twenty thousand soldiers, four gatehouses, many towers, a population in the six-figure range, and enough magic and food to outlast any passive siege. But Untergaung had been fortified to repel men, not the saurians of the City of Gold.

Northern Gates

The Host of the Gods surged from the trees following the feral war cry of the Lizard Men. The spearhead consisted of almost a dozen commanders, Dor-Rak and the Great Beast carrying the Sunstone of Totutl, and lizard warriors in the thousands.

Mighty Beastspawn carrying bows that stood almost as tall as they, firing obsidian headed arrows as thick as a man's wrist and taller than a man stood fired their first volleys aimed for the Gatehouse before them at the extreme range. Stone cracked and small shards of stone and splinters of wood flew in all directions where the great bows struck the wall. Where they struck defender, they sent impaled warrior, both living and dead hurtling into the city.

The Catapults and Ballista born on Triceratops fired as the advance began, shattering stones in the ramparts and flinging men and undead off the tops of the walls where they struck, the thundering bulk of the siege beasts pushing across the darkened earth. The army surged in a tide across the fields as the Lizard Folk prepared to breach the city walls.

Dor-Rak began chanting, holding the Hand of Grom-Taq up over his head on the stone altar born by his massive bond-beast, the Sun Stone beginning to turn in its contraption, spinning slowly but picking up speed. Its rays shined brighter and brighter as the warrior chanted in his feral tongue, calling out the Power of the Gods.

The revolutionaries fled from the Northern side of the city upon seeing massive, nightmarish beasts burst forth from the forests. Talk of Lizard Warriors had always been mythical, legends told by old men and women that had been told them when they were children. Talk of a lone Lizard Warrior stealing careless fishermen or stalwart adventurers. There had never been even a rumor of an army of such size. Despite being significantly outnumbered by the army of Vaundsburg, even outnumbered by Arlek, it was a fearsome sight to the revolutionaries.

The Undead however formed perfect ranks and the human regulars, despite their fear, maintained their battle positions. Arrow volleys were readied, catapults and ballista already beginning to fire at the horde as it approached them.

Taun-Lok commanded the main force directly, riding his war triceratops with his black feathers showing on his armor, surging lizards about him. Arrows and ballista bolts pelted at the lead beast, a large armored Triceratops with large caps on its horns in the shape of battering rams, its purpose very clear. The beast galloped as fast as its legs could carry it, leveling its head at the main northern gates. Behind his swarmed a force of Lizard warriors, both on foot and riding other war beasts.

Directed at the North Western wall, Lizard warriors charged with some Beastspawn carrying grappling hooks affixed to great arrows, while the infantry carried ladders of bamboo. Several commanders rode their predatory reptilian mounts whose long claws would leave furrows in the stone when they climbed the walls, and many of the lizard warriors themselves intended to simply climb over the wall as well, though the grappling hooks and ladders would only speed the process.

To the North East, Dor-rak lead a large portion with his bond-beast. The spinning gemstone, roughly the size of a man increased in speed until its facets were little more than a blur. Bright white rays of light shone from its housing, rays of holy light building. To look directly at the stone was to be blinded temporarily, the silhouette of a lizard priest-warrior black upon the light of the Gods. The army surged closer and closer, some falling to arrows, others continuing forward with arrows sticking out from their bodies and shields. Some died to catapults, some beastspawn took ballista bolts with a roar and continued forward.

In the rear, the baggage train consisted mostly of parasaurs and aquatic animals to carry supplies from the City of the Lost up the river to the army, though Mirielle found herself flanked on either side by a Skull helmed Sunblood guard, brothers of Taun-Lok whom he trusted with her safety.

Madog Hier Mirielle Merlon Elrid Acfream

Location: In the middle of it all.

"Oh, Jack, what have you gotten yourself into now."

Muttering to himself per usual, he ducked into an alleyway and dodged a pair of very concerned individuals who were paying more attention to getting anywhere but there than what was going on around them. He couldn't blame them if he was honest; he didn't want to be there either.

Warning bells and shouting guardsmen, the human ones at least, were quickly sending the word that the city was under attack. Not that they didn't know beforehand, that is. Not even the poorest kingdom with the most inept and incompetent leadership ignored scout reports and even then, travelers passed on the word. A lone person on a horse will always outrun an army and, from personal experience, there was almost always someone with a horse on any given road.

"Where to go... where to go..." Jack muttered to himself, his hands white knuckled as they grasped his satchel and walking stick. Part of him wanted to wait it out in the inn he'd found earlier, pass the siege over a mug or eight of ale, but most of him realized that even if the tavern owner was going to stay open that it was only a matter of time before something crushed, smashed, trampled, or burned the place down. Being quite attached to his own skin and maintaining his upright, mobile, and breathing status - emphasis on the breathing part what with standing in a vampire's kingdom and all - getting squished under debris or creature was not high on his to-do list. Neither was standing around and waiting for whatever was attacking them to show up on the streets with sharp and pointy objects.

He scrubbed at his face and beard a moment, unsure of what to outside of the general concept of escape the city. Or, at least, hide and wait out the siege, though that was the last resort in his book. In a world with monsters galore, he wasn't entirely sure if hiding was an option. If whatever was attacking intended to, say, eat everyone within the walls then hiding was more or less hopping out of the fire and into the frying pan, so to speak. For once, he wished he'd looked for a map of some kind when he'd arrived instead of trying to woo the lovely street vendor girl with the pretty trinkets he'd never use and would probably lose within the week. If the place had a mage's guild, he'd go there, but unfortunately that would require him to be a little more on the cold and not-breathing side of the scale for entry.

"That's it," he muttered, eyes now scanning what skyline he could see from his place at the alley entrance. "Tower... Need a tower..."

Towers meant visibility, visibility meant that he could see the city. If he could figure out where he was and how the city was laid out, he could feasibly find a safe route to flee the city through. Or, at the very least, see who was assaulting the place. He knew Arlek was a rival neighbor and a likely candidate for a siege, but rumor had it that some sort of monsters were spotted on their way. Hearsay and tales flew faster than truth and fact, so he had no real way of knowing which was true, false, or if both held reality, but seeing was believing in Jack's book.

He spotted a small tower, if it could be called one. More a sliver of stone and wood against the sky and probably more a lookout post for... something, possibly messenger pigeons if the stains of white where anything to go by. At least, he hoped it was pigeons. He'd seen what oddities the place had when he'd arrived. For all he knew, it was a flying skeleton roost or a strange form of gibbet, but from where he stood it looked big enough to stand in, which meant there was probably an access somewhere.

Gripping his satchel and staff, he picked up the pace and willed his booted feet to go faster as he bolted towards the tower and dodged panicked city folk. Besides, who knew? There might even be an escape in the tower. Not that he was optimistic, but stranger things had happened before. Not to him, unfortunately, but he'd seen it happen to others. With luck, it was a good-strange and not a bad-strange like the last few times...

Mirielle Merlon Taun-Lok Elrid Acfream

The sudden shaking sent him stumbling to his knees, the stone steps barking painfully against his shins through the fabric of his trousers. He was almost certain that he'd only tripped up a bit, but the shaking continued on a moment more before subsiding telling him it wasn't his sense of balance. Jack pushed himself to his feet and ran onward. Or, at least, as much as one could run up a steep, narrow, and twisting stairway.

The tower, if it could be called such, had no real purpose that he could see outside of being relatively old and sufficiently worn to warrant concern towards its structural integrity. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to question the intelligence of throwing himself up the steps of the thing and had to trust to anything, even pure luck, that it wouldn't collapse on him halfway up.

"Almost.... Almost..." he muttered as he took the steps two at a time. "Almost... Alm- Mother of Pearl!"

He'd caught his balance just in time to keep his feet, but only barely. The top of the tower was far, far from safe for anything short of birds. He'd slid to a stop before going over the edge and into midair. The floor was small, covered in debris, and slick with bird droppings. There was no railing, or at least nothing left of the railing, and only his own balance and prudence kept him from splattering on the rooftops and streets below. The young mage gulped once and stood still, letting his heart slow down from the near-lethal shock it had suffered.

From here it almost seemed like he could see for miles, or at least a short bit beyond the city walls. Frowning, he looked around at the horizon in sight, attempting to see what was going on. It seemed like something had exploded or collapsed at one end of the city if the dust and debris in the air was anything to go by, but there was something more. Something less tangible, more ethereal. It made his eyes water slightly and he could smell traces of burnt air. He might not be a world-class mage, but he wasn't unfamiliar with the telltales of his trade. Someone was using magic. A lot of magic in this case, especially if he could feel it from here. Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly see very well from this distance outside of vague shapes in the dust and the strange roaring from before.

He tried cupping his hands around his eyes to cut out the glare when the realization hit him: his satchel. Scrabbling at the flap of the bag while careful to keep his balance atop the precarious position, he rummaged through the various odds and ends he toted around with him in his travels. After a moment, he pulled out a pair of smooth, flattened crystals. Normally he used them for focusing light to make fires, but their primary purpose was to magnify things to see them better. At least, that was what the note inside the desk in his former masters' study had alluded to their purpose. He distinctly remembered the term magnification, though whether that was by making the target appear larger or actually making the target larger he wasn't sure. Magic was rather odd that way sometimes.

Jack took the two crystals and held them up and over his eyes before ripping the things away from his face. He had to admit, they worked. Unfortunately, they seemed to work too well and gave him the beginnings of a headache in the process. Frowning and blinking to pre-headache away, he brought the things back up to his sight, slowly this time. It took a few moments of adjusting the lens distance and angles, but eventually he managed to get the things to work properly. Or, at least, he hoped they were working properly because he was seeing a great deal of green.

Mottled greens and browns and other colors, to be exact. He sighed internally at the sight of great, reptilian beasts breaking into the city. His forlorn hope of perhaps hiding in a tavern and letting the whole thing blow over was, indeed, too optimistic. Escape was the only hope for now unless he wanted to end up as something's snack.

Jack tucked the lenses back into his satchel and turned to leave the way he'd come. Unfortunately, where he'd planted his heel was far less than stable footing. He managed to avoid tumbling out of the tower and into the streets below, but as with all things involving possessions and falls go, his luck just didn't quite hold out. Most of his things stayed in one piece and either half in or just by the satchel as it spilled open on the floor. Most, that is, aside from a few pellets of various colors that he'd made a few weeks before. They were an attempt at making a magical form of dye that could be applied and removed from clothing at will. He'd attempted to create the things after hearing a pretty seamstress lament at how her patrons never wanted the same color of clothing, making her job excessively tedious. Unfortunately, the attempt yielded no dye, but a rather bright and cloying series of brightly colored smoke when the pellets were broken.

And much to Jack's usual, poor luck, there now poured a kaleidoscope of colors from the tower he occupied, something that would be extremely visible to... just about everyone within eyesight.

"Oh, I'm so dead," was Jack's only reaction as he sat in the midden that was the floor of the tower.

Taun-Lok Mirielle Merlon Elrid Acfream

Taun-Lok Mirielle Merlon Jack Madog Hier Elrid Acfream





West of the city.


The oracle, the seeker. It was a difficult position, delving for turth, finding lore. But the omens had led him to this place, at this time. He did not have a grand army or a masterful cavalry. He instead had fifteen men and woman, all minotaurs, all warriors, all fellow seekers of the new Labyrinth, hoping for a new home. The Labyrinthine banner was not flown. These actions were not taken. The city was at war with itself.


Thraka walked, slowly and solemnly, as each of his comrades advance along side him. Fifteen minotaurs were worth a thosaund men, he thought to himself, waiting for the barrage. He knew it would come, soaring in. Wit his meager numbers every risk had to be calculated, carefully, deliberately. However, this camp would have fewer guards, provided the other armies and militias provided sufficient distractions. The minotaur was not here to liberate the empresses subjects, or slay the living dead who claimed this region. The seekers were here for but one prize, and they would achieve it. The rulers of this land hoarded many things in long, unaging reign. Sercrets, power, and weapons. Thraka desire but oen prize: The Imperial Library of Vaundsburg. Stone tower shields were raised in formation as they moved behind a fairly large boulder for cover, looking as though a wall of stone hand sprung up between them and the seige engines.



It was not arrogance that made him guess at those numbers. There were so few left, so few able. To him, every minotaurs was a thousand humans, a thousand elves, an untold number of vampires or dwarves. It was not cruelty. The only time he could trade the lvies of his people was if it was for thousands. The only sacrifices taht coudl be made were great ones. To risk their lives for less was to throw away the future.



At the eedge of the weapon's range, and not close enough for arrows, the oracle stood, infront of the wall of stone shields. His bellowing rang across the area. "We have come for the library! If you stand down, we shall not harm any amongst you! Should you oppose us, your deaths will be many, hundreds for each of our own lost!" His voice rang out, like the lowing of a bull mix with the scream of a wild maniac. "So stands my oath of stone and blood! What say you!"


He knew taht there was likely no chance in Ardell fifteen minotaurs, even well-armed and armored ones, could cow the entirey western gate into submission without a blow being made. Still, he had to try. And the other kingdoms layign seige to this city woudl also be drawing more ire. This would prove a long, difficult day.

The creaking of ropes and wood were deafening, only drowned out by the roaring woosh of air and thunderous crack of stone as the trebuchets and other siege engines did their dreadful work. As Madog watched, another stone smashed into the walls of the city sending up a cloud of dust and debris. It had taken some time, but the effort had paid off. Here and there along the wall stones slithered down, knocked loose by the bombardment. It was a strong wall, but even a few stones falling free told of plenty of damage underneath.

Around him, the army had maneuvered into position and awaited only the command to attack. Madog had every ounce of faith in the men placed under his command. They were composed mainly of garrison units guarding the northwestern border, each a veteran of skirmishes and prior wars with the vampire kingdom they now attacked. Many had lost friends over the years, others had lost much more, and most were eager to bring the fight to Vaundsburg one final time. He knew that the problem he faced wasn't to urge the men onwards into danger, but to keep them focused and together. Men itching for revenge were hard to control and it wouldn't take much to turn a siege into a massacre.

His musings were interrupted as a rider approached the position. His men intercepted and a quick glance showed the man wearing the browns of the Rangers. He knew that they sometimes rode, but almost always to make quick progress alongside a fast army or in dire need. They were stationary and in the start of a siege which told him that the man had something important to pass on. Madog watched as the Ranger commander, Merricks, helped the man off his horse as the two spoke fervently. The Ranger officer clapped the man once on the shoulder and gestured to an area nearby where the baggage train was setting up. Madog figured Merricks had told the man to grab a bite or a drink. It was what he would have done in such a case.

"My lord, one of my men brings us news," Merricks said as he drew near the ad-hoc general. "An army nearby, north of us. They're not human, but appear to be reptiles. They've already breached the walls and have entered the city in areas."

"Lizard-people?" Madog asked, mildly curious. He knew they existed, but they were normally content to leave the world alone, so much so that most folk didn't know if they were truly real or not. "How did they already breach the city?"

"Well, that loud roar followed by the massive explosion is probably what did it," the Ranger commander said with a shrug. "Man that came back said that there was a smoke on the air, like they'd been burning something, but nothing aflame. Said it made his eyes sting and it stank something horrid."

"Magic," was Madog's only response. Merricks clicked his tongue in his cheek in agreement. Madog had some knowledge on it and had seen it, Merricks had fought against it. They knew the routine and what was at stake. Something that could breach the walls with ease was something very dangerous to let roam around the battlefield. "Thank you, Commander. Keep your men out and about. I need eyes and ears more than ever today. And tell your man he has my personal thanks."

"I will, sir. There was one more thing he mentioned, thought you might like to know it," the Ranger added after a moment. "He said that there was something odd going on in the ranks. Something not quite like the rest. He mentioned there was a critter moving around with someone on top. He wouldn't say one way or the other, only that there was someone, or something, riding it and dressed all in silks. He didn't see nothin' else like it there."

"Your thoughts?"

"Never fought lizards, but my first decade or so of Rangerin' was up this way. Mages and Wizards and them folk like to look different. Robes and hats and shiny armor, that sort of thing. I'm guessing that they saw a mage or whatever the lizards have for mages. Might be the one what knocked down the wall, might not be. Never seen one person wield that much magic, but you never know."

"Thank you, Merricks, I'll keep that in mind."

As the Ranger commander moved on, Madog's brow furrowed in thought. It might just be some lizard noble watching things, but it could also be what Merricks thought it was: a mage. It might also be their commander, though he doubted it. Despite that, the general rule of thumb in such days and times was the concept that if it looked different and acted different, it was potentially valuable to kill it or capture it. If he was lucky, it was the mage. If not, it might be some lizard nobility they'll want back.

"Kendrik!" Madog shouted after a moment longer. "Someone get me Kendrik!"

"I'm right here, my lord. What is it?" came the condescending voice he so recognized a moment later. Madog turned and jabbed a thumb to the north, ignoring that the noble had managed to not only gilded his armor from the last time Madog had seen him, but that it had maintained its polish despite days of marching.

"Get your men together, ride north," he stated bluntly. "I know you have about one hundred, take all of them."

"And do what, my lord?" Kendrik asked, his tone clearly stating his opinion on having to do anything other than polish more armor. The two had a history together and none of it pleasant. Madog thought Kendrik a pompous ass more focused on playing soldier than being one while Kendrik believed Madog to be a brutish tyrant suited more to pulling a cart than leading men.

"One of the Rangers has returned and given his report. He spotted an individual in silks or robes among the lizard-people armor north of us. I want you to ride out, hit their rear or flank as hard as you can, and find that individual. I want them captured, but if they start flinging magic all over the place or endangering your mission, then do what you have to, understand?"

"Of course, my lord. We'll leave at once."

Madog turned back to the siege as more stones impacted against the wall. Behind him, he heard the sounds of hooves moving quickly as Kendrik followed his orders. He was fairly certain that were he not the brother of the king that Kendrik would have simply ignored him, but that was a concept for another time. As the fighting went on, Madog knew it was all a matter of time. At least, until it wasn't. At that point it would come down to who fought the hardest and smartest the longest.

With luck, it was Arlek that would prevail.

Mirielle Merlon Taun-Lok Elrid Acfream Thraka Warchanter Aldacer